these are our high and holy days the ones where we shake the night’s rain from blossoms so they might yield their scent to our breath, the ones where we wake to the sound of smartphones proclaiming the day, (and the hour and the weather) the ones we make toast for, early morning iron pans…
there is a finite pause in this infinity of life as we are born so we must die and we will. i will lose you and you will lose me as we have done so many times before. until then let us live alive to love joyous fractal arcs of light knee deep in the…
he said it is quite simple but really pay attention and was speaking very quickly as the dream was the length of the road which was only the height of the mountain and at the speed at which i was driving was not very much time at all. and i was just so happy…
remembering again she said we were bleeding at our roots. she said of all the species sharing this planet – we were the only ones who had to pay to live here and after my silence, like deep river swallowing stone, i had to laugh because that is a special kind of stupid – and…
life does not live here it is only measured with hands that mark the seconds in silence machines that weigh the beating heart. life cannot live here. life lives deep in veins pounding red with tides and memory rank with sacred purpose. life lives on egret wings lifting light to the sky in the darkening…